


The End.

by Kalika45



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalika45/pseuds/Kalika45
Summary: Martin visits his mothers grave to let some things off his chest (Takes place between the end of season 3 and beginning of season 4 before Jon wakes up)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	The End.

“You know following me around doesn’t mean I’m automatically going to start giving a statement,” Martin glared at the whirring tape recorder, “And this is the last thing I want you to listen in on.” He turned off the machine. If Jon ever woke up, he wasn’t going to hear him break down at his mother’s grave. The machine clicked on again, “Fine, fine. It’s not like this is the first time you’ve recorded me having a breakdown” He shoved the thing back into his pocket and strode through the gates of the cemetery.

The morning mist was heavy and clung to him as he passed through the rows of graves. He’d occasionally pass a grave with flowers resting on it. Martin hadn’t bothered to pick up a bouquet for her. His mother wouldn’t have wanted anything from him; besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to give her anything else. Did she even deserve anything else?

The stone was polished black, simple and cheap. Martin hadn’t had a lot of money to spare, and when he had gotten the phone call from the nurse, he had still been in the process of mourning Jon. He was still mourning Jon. He was grieving too many people.

Martin stuffed his hands in his pockets, fingers brushing over the cool plastic, right he wasn’t alone, “Look, I don’t know if there’s even an afterlife at this point. Maybe there is. Maybe you’re stuck suffering for The Ends amusement. Maybe you just don’t exist anymore. It doesn’t really matter.” He took a breath, “I wanted to say this at the funeral, but causing a scene wouldn’t solve anything, so I’m here now.” He laughed, “And if you are there, you don’t have much of a choice but to listen, do you?”

“The past few months have been Hell. Even before Jon…Even before he died, things were horrible. Do you know why? Because of you. Being forced to acknowledge that your own mother hates you. To finally know why.” He trembled, and his voice cracked as he continued, “I didn’t ask to be born. It’s not my fault you that your husband was a coward. It’s not my fault that he left when you got sick. It’s not my fault that I look like him. I spent over two decades, making sure you were taken care of. I sacrificed myself for you, and for years you treated me like I was nothing. Like I was the most wretched thing in existence. It’s pretty bad when your evil boss treats you with more respect even as he’s traumatizing me.” He laughed bitterly, kicking up a small patch of loose dirt.

He took a steadying breath before continuing, “You know I keep thinking about how much it hurt when you told me to send you to a home. Considering how awful you were, it should have been a relief, let the nurses take care of you. I wouldn’t have to hear the thinly veiled scorn or feel you glaring at me, and I’d never have to make you another cup of the horrid tea. I could focus on my work. A job I actually enjoyed, by the way, I made some terrific friends …of course, they’re all dead now, so maybe it would have been better if I never met them…” He muttered the last part, “You’d have known about everything if you’d even bothered to read my letters. That was a lovely surprise, dozens of sealed letters shoved in a drawer without care. I could feel the love.” He snorted.

“At least Jon had the decency to be blunt about how he felt. He might not have liked me, but he didn’t hide it.” And things had changed, hadn’t they? He’d softened around the edges. He cared enough to get goodbyes, “I really loved him, you know. I loved him more than anyone else in the world. But he’s gone along with everyone else, so it doesn’t matter.” Nothing mattered. He was alone, and as much as he wanted to be near somebody, he was so tired of the pain.

“I got a promotion…In a way. My new boss decided I was perfect for his plan. If I’m being honest, I didn’t agree out of some loyalty or desire to do good. I have nothing. You’re dead and always hated me, which hurts like Hell. The man I love might as well be dead, and my two best friends are dead. I can’t even remember what one of them looked like, and it hurts so much. I have nothing. I am nothing. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to join you in the ground. It’s better than living the rest of my life alone.”

Peter assured him that as time went on, and he became closer to the lonely, the pain would fade, that the isolation would feel comforting. Martin wasn’t sure he believed him, but he wanted it to be true.

“If I don’t die, Peter says I won’t care anymore anyway, so it’s a win-win, I guess.” He was so tired. He was tired of hurting, of losing everyone he cared about. He just wanted everything to end

Martin knew he wasn’t essential, but just once did he want somebody to treat him like he was, “So I might see you soon, or I won’t. I don’t care either way.”

As Martin walked away, the recorder turned off.


End file.
